Very Bad Things

 

 

By

 

Peter Berg

 

 

9/2/97

 

 

Fade In:

 

TITLE SEQUENCE. . .

 

1    THE DEAD OF NIGHT        1

 

Pitch black. Dead quiet. Dim faint light appears in the distance, approaching, growing larger. As the light nears, we recognize car headlights. Closer and closer until the car is bearing down upon us with great force. . .

 

 

 

2    INT. CAR          2

 

Two men in the front seat, FISHER and MOORE. Fisher drives. All seems quite normal until we take a closer look, sweat matts hair, dirt stains on white tuxedo shirts hands are blistered and bloody. They seem almost entranced.

 

MOORE: That ought to be about the end of that.

FISHER: Yup.

 

SILENCE. PUSH IN ON Fisher…

 

ANNOUNCER (V.O.):“The Oakland Raiders have taken a 7 - 6 lead in a, tough, football game and this crowd is standing...”

 

FISHER’S VISION - GRAINY - OUT OF THE PAST

 

3    THREE RIVER STADIUM - DECEMBER 23RD, 1972          3

 

Playoff game between the Oakland Raiders and the Pittsburgh Steelers. Scoreboard reads: 22 seconds, 4th down, 10 yards to go, 4th quarter.

 

ANNOUNCER (V.O.): “Hang on to your hats, here come the Steelers out of the Huddle...”

 

4    INT. CAR - FISHER     4

 

transfixed…

 

ANNOUNCER (V.O.): “It comes down to one big play, 4th down, ten yards to go. Terry Bradshaw at the controls...”

 

Bradshaw throws.

 

ANNOUNCER (V.O.): “And Bradshaw, back and looking…Again, Bradshaw running out of the pocket… Looking for someone to throw to...”

 

Bradshaw throws.

 

ANNOUNCER (V.O.): …Bradshaw fires it down the field and there’s a collision!...”

 

The ball bounces off the helmet of a Raider player and is caught low by the Steelers’ FRANCO HARRIS.

 

ANNOUNCER (V.O.): “...and it’s caught out of the air! The ball is pulled in by Franco Harris!”

 

6    FISHER - DRIVING      6

 

ANNOUNCER (V.O.): Franco Harris running for the end zone, all but home...”

 

Oncoming headlights illuminate Fisher’s face…

 

END TITLES.

 

FADE TO BLACK:

 

FADE IN ON:

 

7    INT. LOS ANGELES CITY HALL - MARRIAGE LICENSE DEPT. - DAY   7

 

SLOWLY TRACKING down a long line of couples. Some with kids, some old, some young, all waiting to pay their $55 and pick up their marriage license.

 

We HOLD on a young couple, late 20’s, KEITH FISHER and his fiancee, LIZ GARRETY. Fisher has a blondish quality to him, unassuming, pleasant, attentive, a bit more reactive than he could be. Liz is quite attractive, but somewhat tense, and not at all happy about having to stand in this very slow moving line.

 

LIZ: This is ridiculous.

FISHER: Government cutbacks.

LIZ: Why can’t we do it through the mail?

FISHER: (patient) We missed the deadline.

LIZ: Can’t we do it on the phone?

FISHER: I don’t think so.

 

In front of them a middle-aged MEXICAN COUPLE make-out intensely while their chubby little THREE YEAR OLD stares at Liz.

 

LIZ: Why is this Kid staring at me?

FISHER: I’m not sure.

 

Liz pulls a note-pad out of her daypack.

 

LIZ: (reading from her notes) Did you send in all of the deposit checks?

FISHER: I think so.

LIZ: (pause) What do you mean, you think so?

FISHER: I sent a lot of checks, I’m not sure what all of them are.

LIZ: The wedding cake check?

FISHER: Sent it.

LIZ: Photographer?

FISHER: Sent it.

LIZ: Florist?

FISHER: Yup.

LIZ: Caterer?

FISHER: Yes.

LIZ: Hotel for my parents, the tent, the band, the Judge…

FISHER: (beat) I think I forgot the tent.

LIZ: (somewhat alarmed) You forgot the tent?

FISHER: I think so.

LIZ: Why?

FISHER: Why what?

LIZ: Why did you forget the tent check?

FISHER: I didn’t mean to Liz. I’m sorry.

LIZ: You can’t play around with these tent people.

FISHER: I’m not playing around. I forgot.

LIZ: What else have you forgot?

FISHER: How could I know what else I forgot?

LIZ: I’m working my ass off here. I’ve taken care of absolutely everything Keith.

FISHER: Because you wanted to. You wanted this to be your wedding not your parent’s.

LIZ: Don’t you dare.

FISHER: What?

LIZ: Don’t you put this on me. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t...

 

A YOUNG TEENAGE COUPLE behind them stares at Liz, a bit confused.

 

FISHER: (trying to calm her) Stop it. I’m sorry.

LIZ: (trying to control herself) You know how important this is to my mother. You know that.

FISHER: I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot the tent. I don’t think I forgot anything else.

LIZ: (not bitchy) I bet you didn’t forget the bachelor party checks.

FISHER: Are we going to do this again?

LIZ: I’m just saying I bet those checks all found the mailboxes.

FISHER: I wouldn’t know.

LIZ: It amazes me how organized you and your little fun bunch can be when it comes time to mobilize to Vegas.

FISHER: (patient) They organized this, not me. I have nothing to do with it.

LIZ: well it’s bad timing.

FISHER: How do you figure?

LIZ: Right before the wedding?

FISHER: It’s a bachelor party. You sort of have to do it before the wedding.

LIZ: I suppose Boyd is the creative force behind all this.

FISHER: He is.

LIZ: He’s a moron.

FISHER: He’s my friend. He’s not a moron.

LIZ: David Boyd is a big sack of hot gas.

 

8    EXT. SANTA MONICA          8

 

TIGHT ON a “Fred Sands” realty sign being pounded into the ground. Pictured on the sign, as “offered by,” is realtor DAVID BOYD, 30-ish, short hair, smiling with bizarre sincerity.

 

WIDER to reveal, David Boyd in the flesh, suit jacket off, pounding away, sinking the sign into the front yard of a cute little house. His CELL PHONE RINGS. Boyd, gets the phone from his jacket.

 

BOYD: (into phone) David Boyd. Tina. Great. Okay. Here’s the deal, we’re talking five guys. Hard Rock. Nice guys Tina. My friends. Yeah. I’m calling you directly so you don’t have to go through the agency... (suddenly, over his shoulder) HEY! DO NOT ENTER THE HOUSE! (back into phone) That’s correct. Cash straight to you. Yes. Twelve hundred? I don’t think so. It’s just stripping. Just a show. Hold on. (O.C.) Could you please wait off the property?

 

ANGLE ON A YOUNG COUPLE, obviously here to see the house.

 

MAN: We’re just trying to sneak a peak.

BOYD: Just stay off the property until I’m off the phone.

MAN: Why?

BOYD: Cause that’s the way they do it.

 

Bewildered and somewhat intimidated, they back off.

 

BOYD (con’t): (back into phone) So it’s five guys, Hardrock Casino. Nine hundred bucks and you do the thing with the rubber hoses. Are you in? Tina, are you in? Good.

 

Boyd hangs up, puts on his jacket and turns with the same bizarre insincere smile in his photo. Hand extended...

 

BOYD (con’t): David Boyd, nice to meet you.

 

9    FISHER AND LIZ IN LINE      9

 

LIZ: Why do you feel the need to explore this side of your personality?

FISHER: What are you talking about?

LIZ: I’m talking about the kind of people you hang out with...about growing up, assuming responsibility of yourself.

FISHER: I asked you to marry me. I’m ready for marriage. That’s responsibility. That’s growth.

LIZ: I just think that at some point you’re going to have to re-evaluate some of your friendships...

FISHER: Who else?

LIZ: Charles Moore for instants.

FISHER: You don’t like Moore? Since when?

LIZ: It’s not that I don’t like him. But the wedding has really got me thinking and...I just keep myself opening up. Crowning. And I want you keeping up with me here.

FISHER: What does Moore have to do with your growing?

LIZ: I just don’t see him in the big picture.

FISHER: I’ve known him since Cub Scouts.

LIZ: He’s weird.

FISHER: He’s quiet.

LIZ: He’s weird.

 

10   TIGHT ON - CHARLES MOORE     10

 

late twenties, a chef in a very upscale, very busy KITCHEN. His name, “Moore,” is embroidered on his white chef’s jacket.

 

Food orders fly all around as Moore works with a mesmerizing focus, a poetic sense of purpose, fifteen things going on at once; he chops, sautes, braises, etc..., in a perfect mute silence.

 

11   FISHER AND LIZ STILL IN LINE      11

 

FISHER: He just doesn’t talk a lot.

LIZ: Why? What’s his problem?

FISHER: He’s a great chef.

LIZ: He’s weird. And I expect more from you.

FISHER: You expect more what?

LIZ: You’re going to be hungover for three days. Like those guys on “Oprah” that get drunk and have disgusting sex with prostitutes and then say their vows with the stench of cheap hotel whore sex all over them.

FISHER: Time out.

LIZ: It’s vile!

 

People are staring.

 

FISHER: That’s absurd.

LIZ: I’ve seen it on television.

FISHER: I’m not going to marry you with the smell of prostitutes on my body.

LIZ: (starts to cry) I am not common Keith. I am not common. I am a creature like no other and I will not be commoned! Is that to much to ask? (screaming) Is that to much to ask!?!

FISHER: You will not be common!!!

 

Finally, at the head of the line, Liz steps up to the clerk.

 

LIZ:  Marriage license please.

 

12   EXT. GOVERNMENT BUILDING     12

 

Fisher and Liz emerge, start for the parking lot. Liz stops to look at Fisher, her eyes well with tears, vulnerable and apologetic.

 

LIZ: Do you love me?

FISHER: Of course.

LIZ: How much?

FISHER: With all my heart.

LIZ: (vulnerable) Kiss me...?

 

FISHER takes her into his arms, pulls her to him, kisses her hard, for all it’s worth.

 

13   INT. A LARGE MONEY MANAGEMENT FIRM      13

 

Desk after desk after desk of identical men, seemingly repeating the same task. We find Fisher at one of the desks, number crunching. At the desk across from Fisher sits...

 

MICHEAL BRENN, short, compact, with a severe personality disorder, masquerading as semi-appropriate behavior.

 

MICHEAL: That’s just insecurity.

FISHER: I don’t know. She’s really been stressing out.

MICHEAL: Just insecurity. Nut crunching gut splinters.

FISHER: What does that mean?

MICHEAL: It means she’s insecure.

FISHER: About what?

 

Micheal’s phone rings.

 

MICHEAL: (picks up) Mike Brenn. Yes. Yes. 14.3 at 7.5 for 6. At 29.83 at 9. (hangs up)  I’m amazed the windows don’t blow out of their fucking sockets with all the repressed, ass-puckering rage in these soul-less lizards.

FISHER: (beat) I just want her to be happy.

MICHEAL: Same alarm clock every morning, same two pops on the same snooze button...(PHONE RINGS; picks up) Micheal Brenn. Yes...Yes... (looking through stacks of stats)Hold your horses. Okay. Got it. 6.321 at 17.28 for 6.6 at 9.256 out at 3432.343. (hangs up) Same shower, towel, toothbrush, razor, hair gel. It’s a fucking epidemic Fisher and you better start addressing it. You’re getting married and I’m not going to candy-coat it. It just gets worse. It’s an eighteen wheel cement mixer that will crush every bone in your body.

 

Fisher looks pale.

 

FISHER: I’m not breathing right.

MICHEAL: You’re not breathing right?
FISHER: Lately I’ll just start getting lightheaded, dizzy, and I realize I haven’t breathed in like two minutes.

 

ADAM BRENN, Micheal’s older brother, mid-30’s, a bit soft in the belly, approaches, more or less in charge.

 

ADAM: (to Micheal) We’re leaving from my house in three hours. If you want to come, get your numbers in order by then.

MICHEAL: First of all...

ADAM: (cuts him off) No first of all. I’m not in a game mood.

MICHEAL: You’re interrupting a personal conversation.

ADAM: (to Fisher) Sorry Fish.

FISHER: We’ll be ready Adam.

ADAM: I know you’ll be. (to Micheal) Three hours.

 

Adam goes.

 

MICHEAL: I don’t care for him.

FISHER: He’s your brother.

MICHEAL: So?

 

Fisher’s phone RINGS.

 

FISHER: (pick’s up) Keith Fisher.

 

14   INT. KITCHEN         14

 

Liz sits at the kitchen table, in a mild panic.

 

LIZ: (into phone) We’ve got problems here.

FISHER: Problems?

 

INTERCUT Liz and Fisher.

 

LIZ: Seating problems.

FISHER: Okay.

LIZ: Keith do not trivialize this.

FISHER: I’m not. What’s the problem?

LIZ: We’re supposed to have gold-trimmed padded seats, now they’re telling me that there was a mistake and we can’t have padded.

FISHER: What kind of seats can we have?

LIZ: Not padded ones.

FISHER: So what do we do?

LIZ: You go down there.

FISHER: Go down where?

LIZ: Go down to the seat place and straighten this out.

FISHER: Honey I don’t have the time...

LIZ: I need your help.

FISHER: We’re leaving in three hours.

LIZ: (starts to cry) I need your help.

FISHER: I’ll call them from the road.

LIZ: Do you love me?

FISHER: More than I ever imagined being able to love anyone ever.

LIZ: Take care of those chairs.

FISHER: We’re leaving from Adam’s. Come send me off.

LIZ: Maybe.

 

15   EXT. ADAM’S HOUSE - SANTA MONICA        15

 

BOYD, MOORE, FISHER in the middle, MICHEAL and his older brother, ADAM, all in suits pose in front of Adam’s brand new, state of the art, Chevy Minivan while Adam’s very aggressive wife, LOIS, mired in domestic resentment, focuses her camera.

 

LOIS: Notice how clean and well-behaved they all appear, respectable members of modern society. Timmy, Adam Jr., take a good look at this...

 

Adam’s and Lois’ kids, Timmy, 8, and Adam Jr., 10, watch with Liz. (Adam Jr., in leg braces and crutches, suffers from muscular dystrophy)

 

LOIS: ...We will compare these before photos with whatever form of degeneration presented to us in 24 hours, no matter how low, how vile...

LIZ: ...embarrassing, shameful...

LOIS: ...regression of Modern Man to his most primitive, ape-like state...

LIZ: The stone age.

LOIS: The post-Vegas Man.

LIZ: A mutant species.

LOIS: Okay boys, smile!

 

Lois clicks off photos of the men.

 

LOIS: All right. As you were.

 

The guys break. Fisher goes to Liz.

 

LIZ: will you please call the chair people?

FISHER: I will.

LIZ: Do you love me?

FISHER: Of course.

LIZ: Just call and let me know that your okay.

FISHER: I love you.

LIZ: have a nice bachelor party.

 

Adam kisses Lois and the kids goodbye. Adam jr. nearly looses his balance in the excitement, Adam catches him.

 

Boyd starts to get in the drivers seat.

 

ADAM: Not on your life.

 

Boyd slides over shotgun, cranks the MUSIC.  Fisher’s the last one in. He slides the big Minivan door shut and they’re off.

 

Adam looks in the rearview mirror, Lois, Liz, Timmy wave goodbye. Adam Jr. waves one of his crutches.

 

16   EXT. - FWY - SERIES OF SHOTS - DAY      16

 

The minivan cruises east: from Santa Monica; through downtown Los Angeles; and the City of Industry. At the turn off, a freeway sign reads; “Las Vegas 385 miles.”

 

17   INT. MINIVAN - LATER        17

 

BOYD: You’re a fucking moron.

MICHEAL: It’s my fucking opinion.

ADAM: It’s really a stupid opinion. You have developed an annoying habit of talking for what seems to be no other reason than to hear yourself speak.

MICHEAL: Because my opinion threatens yours, it’s poorly developed?

ADAM: No, because your opinions are idiotic and have nothing to do with what any given conversation is about, which makes 85% of your eagerly injected thought process highly offensive to me.

MICHEAL: Boyd brought up divorce statistics.

BOYD: The hell I did!

MICHEAL: The hell you didn’t!

BOYD: The hell I did!

MICHEAL: You said one in two marriages end in divorce.

BOYD: I never heard that.

FISHER: You said that Boyd.

BOYD: Well, I didn’t mean it.

MICHEAL: You’re an asshole Adam.

ADAM: You’re an asshole.

MICHEAL: Oh, and why am I an asshole?

ADAM: Multiple reasons.

MICHEAL: Name one.

ADAM: I don’t have to...

FISHER: SHUT UP!

 

DEAD SILENCE. As they ride through the lifeless desert, Fisher dials his cell phone.

 

FISHER (cont’d): (into phone) Is this Pico Party rents? Can I speak to whomever is in charge of chairs? Chairs.

 

Boyd checks his watch.

 

BOYD: Four hours and fifteen minutes. I can make Vegas in 3 and change.

ADAM: I’m not getting a ticket.

FISHER: (on cell phone) Tony? This is Keith Fisher. You’re doing my wedding and I’m calling about the chair situation. Yeah, I’ll hold.

BOYD: Who’s up for making some real money?

ADAM: Don’t even start.

BOYD: You want to hear me out?

MICHEAL: nope.

BOYD: Moore?

MOORE: No I don’t.

BOYD: Fish?

FISHER: Not really. (into phone) Yes, the Fisher wedding chairs...

BOYD: Prison Communication Systems. (no response) An acquaintance friend of mine is professionally involved with a communications outfit in Denver that I just happen to know for a fact is about to be rewarded a very large, exclusive contract to rewire every state prison in Colorado. Yes sir.

 

Nobody gives a fuck.

 

FISHER: (into phone) No, I’m holding for Tony. In chairs. Keith Fisher. Okay.

BOYD: That would translate to government guaranteed contract in excess of 35 million dollars.

FISHER: (into phone) We need padded chairs.

BOYD: Or a stock kick of approximately 125% on shares which are currently sitting around $4.38, or, in plain English... 

ADAM: SHUT UP!                     MICHEAL: NO!

BOYD: What is wrong with you people? I’m a helper here.

MOORE: Your investment ideas never work out.

BOYD: That’s the whole point. They rarely work out. But on occasion they do. And when they do, they do big.

MICHEAL: Your ideas never work out.

BOYD: Oh really? Starbucks?

ADAM: That’s one idea.

FISHER: (into phone) No...we want padded chairs...okay?

BOYD: One idea that if you had fucking listened to, you would each be worth approximately 15 million dollars.

ADAM: You can’t keep bringing up Starbucks. That was your only real hit in like 75 tries.

BOYD: I set up Fisher with the broker that found his house. Took care of that one, didn’t I? (beat) Prison Communications.

MORE: I don’t think so Boyd.

BOYD: Fine. Don’t com crying to Boyd. No sir.

 

He turns away from the guys and stares out the window.     

 

FISHER (O.C.): Yes, I was holding for Tony in chairs. I have a chair problem. No, I’m not Tony, I need to speak to Tony.

 

18   EXT. DESERT          18

 

The minivan cruises through Death Valley in route to Vegas.

 

19   EXT. RED ROCK NAT’L PARK - CANYON - MAGIC HOUR      19

 

North of Vegas. The minivan is parked high on a cliff overlooking the city. A couple of Tequila bottles on ice, a case of Heineken. The boys are arming up.

 

ADAM: All the bullshit aside Fish, we’ve been coming up here for what, eight years?

 

Boyd, carving a branch with his boy scout knife...

 

BOYD: More.

ADAM: Over eight years of some of the hardest raging experiences of my life.

MOORE: Good times.

MICHEAL: Drum banging real times.

FISHER: Real times.

ADAM: They’ve all been real times. And as you prepare to enter into a new phase of life, as you prepare for new roles; father, husband, teacher, you will, as I have, come to except the letting go of of old ways. Soon, the mellowing will begin...

BOYD: But not tonight.

MOORE: Not tonight.

ADAM: Tonight we return once again to the cave. Tonight we let the monsters out. We fill ourselves with the spirits of Genghis Kahn, Joe Namath, JFK, Paton, Lombardi, Hemingway...

MICHEAL: (screaming) Franco mother-fucking Harris!

MOORE: Keith Richards, Dean Martin...

BOYD: Jack Kerouback, Herman Melville, Henry Miller and Hunter S. Thompson. I dedicate this evening to feat and to major loathing. So from sun set to sun rise, let me be heard...

 

Boyd holds the bottle above his head as the guys raise their glasses in a toast.

 

ALL: He who acts the beast, rids himself of the pain of being a man!

 

The guys smash the bottles together in an explosion of glass and the golden Tequila.

 

20   INT. CASINO - Gambling Montage         20

 

Improvised DIALOGUE.

 

CARDS fly.

 

CASH and CHIPS PLAY

 

FISHER on cell phone calls about the chairs again.

 

TEQUILA POURS. Shot after shot after shot after shot.

 

MICHEAL throws back a shot, falls off his stool.

 

21   CASINO PHONE BOOTH         21

 

Fisher sneaks a call to liz.

 

LIZ (V.O.): Hello.

FISHER: Hi.

 

22   INT. DEN - LIZ’S AND FISHER’S APARTMENT       22

 

Liz is making place cards, “I Love Lucy” is on the TV.

 

LIZ: Hi. (teasing) Are you calling from jail?

FISHER (V.O.): Not yet.

LIZ: Well, the night is young. Did you straighten out the chair situation?

FISHER (V.O.): I’m working on it, I’ve made three calls. (beat) I can’t stop thinking about how much I love you.

LIZ: That’s sweet.

FISHER (V.O.): Well I do.

LIZ: Well you should.

FISHER (V.O.): What are you doing?

LIZ: Just a bit of organizing.

FISHER (V.O.): Nesting?

LIZ: Yeah. Nesting.

FISHER (V.O.): I’m mad at you.

LIZ: Go have fun. Not too much.

FISHER (V.O.): I’ll see you tomorrow...

 

23   CASINO         23

 

Fisher hangs up, a “Crazy about the girl” smile on his face.

 

24   INT. FISHER’S SPLIT-LEVEL HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT       24

 

The MUSIC is LOUD. The boys are super drunk in the swank bachelor party suite.

 

MOORE stagger-dances on a table.

 

BOYD AND MICHEAL stand at the wet-bar.

 

BOYD: I don’t hate women.

MICHEAL: You hate women.

BOYD: False.

MICHEAL: True.

BOYD: Not true.

MICHEAL: You have a King fantasy.

BOYD: I am a lover. In Africa, you can stay king as long as you can service your women every night.

MICHEAL: And what happens when you can’t?

BOYD: (swigs whiskey; looks up) New king.

 

25   EXT. BALCONY         25

 

Adam and Fisher.

 

ADAM: No. No. No. It’s what my father said to me. He said it and he meant it...He said to me...He said, Adam, he said...He told me and I heard him...he said... (struggles to remember) Hell he said so many Goddamn things I can’t remember everything he said for Christsake.

FISHER: Right! That’s exactly what I’m saying. My father said, first of all, I’m your father not your friend. I’m your f